


Or Eight (A Promise)

by Ghost (PoisonedDeath)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Gen, and basically i love gary now, and i feel sorry for him, uh so i actually wrote this, what even are these tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 06:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6411724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonedDeath/pseuds/Ghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie calls the very second he hears the news.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Or Eight (A Promise)

Jamie calls the very second he hears the news. He wants to wait, knows he should wait, but he just can’t. He knows Gary’s going to be inundated with messages and calls, people offering condolences and kind words. Jamie knows this, but he can’t help himself. Gary picks up on the fourth ring.  
“If you’ve come to gloat-“  
“I’m sorry, mate. Yeah, no, I’m not gonna have a gloat,” Jamie nervously fiddles with the pockets of his jacket as he speaks. He doesn’t want to gloat, and he’s trying his best not to get too defensive. He’s just trying to be a good friend – besides, they were colleagues not too long ago, so there must be some level of social acceptability there somewhere, right?  
“Look, Jamie, I appreciate it, but I’m really not in the mood. I’m sorry, okay?”  
“You knew it was coming.”  
“Yeah. Yeah, I did. But that doesn’t make it any easier, not really,” Jamie lets out a shaky breath at Gary’s words.  
“When you get back ‘ere, we’ll go for a pint, eh?” Jamie finds himself saying before he’s been able to properly police his words.  
“Yeah, sure. That’d be…” Gary’s voice trailed off, and a silence spread on both sides of the phone. Both men sit listening to the other breathe in an awkwardly comfortable moment of acceptance, miles away from each other and yet bound by their love of red. Different shades, but red, nonetheless. And that rivalry that kept them so close during their playing days was going to be the difference again, but a positive difference this time around.  
“Come back to Sky. We miss you there, the fans miss you…” (I miss you was left unsaid)  
“Maybe. Who knows? But the pint, when I get back… we’ll get a pint.”  
“Or two?”  
“Or eight, Carra?” the teasing tone in Gary’s voice is evident, and Jamie’s dramatic eye roll is practically audible.  
“Or eight,” he repeats. A promise.  
“I’ll see you then, then.”  
“See you then,” And like that, the conversation ends and both men return to what’s left of their normal lives, with a hope that things will return to how they were before.


End file.
